Only a month remained until the start of the school year. Regina didn't want to think about that yet. It was hard enough having Henry push her away, but letting him leave would be a whole different kind of heartbreak. Would he write to her? Would he come home for Christmas? Would the other kids recognize his last name and shun him, or feed him exaggerated stories about how horrible she had been?

He had come home from Diagon Alley with a beautiful tawny owl and named him Beedle after the famous storyteller, who Snow had apparently told him about. He could write if he wanted. Regina would simply have to hope that he did, but at the moment, that seemed like a pipe dream. Things between them were still as tense as they had been ever since his Hogwarts letter came. One morning over breakfast, she tried to make conversation.

"You've been reading Hogwarts, a History, haven't you?" she asked. It wasn't a question. She had seen him with it more than any other book that summer. He nodded and swallowed a mouthful of bacon.

"It's a good book," he said. "And I want to know everything I can about Hogwarts."

"I'm sure you do," she said carefully. "You're a smart boy. You'd be a good fit for Ravenclaw."

His smile was bitter. "I'd rather be a Gryffindor. But I'm sure you don't want that."

Regina dropped her fork and looked at him across the table.

"Why do you say that?"

"Gryffindors are heroes," he said. "You were one of the bad guys. What were you, a Slytherin? Well, I don't want to be like you."

"Henry, I was a Gryffindor."

Her words were soft, and she felt tears stinging her eyes, but she held them back. She wouldn't cry in front of her son. He looked at her like he had never thought of that.

"You're lying to me."

She shook her head. "You can ask Emma. Or Snow. It made my mother furious, but yes, I was a Gryffindor." His look of confusion remained, so she went on: "I made mistakes, Henry. Big mistakes. I was in pain, and I handled it in the worst way that I could have. But not all Gryffindors are heroes, not all Slytherins are evil, and there's no shame in being a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff, either. It's not so black and white."

He was quiet for a minute, considering that.

"What house was Professor White in?" he asked.

"She was a Hufflepuff."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "A Hufflepuff?"

"Hufflepuffs can be some of the best people," said Regina, thinking not of Snow but of Daniel. "They're steadfast and loyal, kindhearted, if a bit naïve, and certainly capable of being brave when they need to be. You shouldn't look down on them."

"What about Professor White's husband?" he asked. "She told me a lot about him, but she didn't say what house he was in."

Regina stared at him for a moment, realizing he didn't know the truth about Snow's husband. Should she tell him? Or tell the lie that the whole world believed?

"That's not an easy question to answer," she said.

"What do you mean?"

Oh, this was too good to pass up. For the first time since his birthday, Henry actually wanted to talk to her. But she shook her head.

"It's not my story to tell," she said. She knew better than to share other people's secrets, especially ones as dangerous as David's true identity. She wasn't Snow White. "You'll have to ask him. But I could tell you other stories about the magical world, if you want."

He smiled at her. It was a shaky smile, but a real one. "I'd like that."

"What else do you want to know?"

He hesitated. "Can you tell me about quidditch?"

A genuine smile lit up her face. "I'd love to." As she told him about her time as a Chaser on the Gryffindor quidditch team and remembered the way that flying could always bring a smile to her face, he listened with wide eyes. She didn't mention Daniel. She didn't mention that the quidditch pitch had been their special place, or that she hadn't set foot on one since the day he died. There was no need to taint her story for Henry with such bittersweet memories.

When Emma came over for apple pie later, Henry ate a slice, too. It was a little thing, but it was everything to Regina.

"So how is that case going?" Regina asked. "The one you were telling me about last time."

Emma shrugged. "Not too well. We haven't had another disappearance for a while, but we also haven't caught the guy, so it's just a matter of time."

"What case?" Henry asked, his eyes lighting up. "Is it an auror thing?"

The two women exchanged a tense look. Neither one of them wanted to tell Henry the truth, that someone seemed to be going after magical children.

"Yeah, kid, it's an auror thing," said Emma. "But don't worry we'll take care of it. That's what I do, right? Catch bad guys."

Henry grinned, and Regina couldn't hold back a slight smile as well.

"Clearly, you haven't changed," she said. "You always did like to play the hero."

"So did you, once upon a time," said Emma. Regina wasn't quite if she should take that as a compliment or an insult, but as she was still turning Emma's words over in her head, Henry spoke up again.

"Is it true my mom was a Gryffindor?" he asked.

Emma looked at him in surprise. "Yeah, it's true. Why?"

He shrugged.

"Let me tell you a story about your mom," said Emma. "When we were third years, there was this bully, a couple of years older than us, and your mom found him being really mean to a first year. He called her … you know that some people in the magical world are prejudiced against people whose parents are muggles? Well, he called her a not very nice name because of that. Your mom storms over, grabs him by his tie, and holds her wand in his face. 'Say that again one more time and I'll hex you', she said. 'Don't ever go near her again.' Then she spent an hour trying to cheer the kid up. It was kind of sweet."

"He ran to a professor," said Regina. "The coward. I ended up with a week's worth of detentions, but it was worth it."

Henry looked at Regina with big, astonished eyes. It was a familiar look on his face, the way he used to look at her when she checked under his bed and assured him there was no monster hiding there.

"Is that really true?"

"Every word," she told him.

As Emma gathered her things and got ready to leave, she paused and beckoned to Regina.

"I want to talk to you alone," she said.

Regina followed her into the hallway. "What's going on?"

"There's something I need to tell you about the case," she said. "Something I didn't want to say in front of Henry."

"What is it?" Regina asked.

"We've been looking through old records, to see if we can find anything similar. And we did. A boy named Felix disappeared about 80 years ago. A family called the Darlings a few decades ago. About a dozen other kids, a few girls but mostly boys, all within the past century, none of them ever found. There's no way to say if there's a connection …"

"But there could be."

"Yeah."

"Thank you. For telling me. I'm pretty sure this is all classified."

Emma shrugged. "Maybe, but … well, this is Henry's safety we're talking about. You need to be informed."

Regina couldn't resist. She pulled Emma close and kissed her on the lips, half expecting her to pull away, but Emma kissed her back, blonde hair tickling her face as they hungrily explored each other's mouths.

The sound of a throat clearing pulled them apart, and they turned to see Henry standing there, his mouth hanging open.